Harringrove prompts

Strange Magick 1

Steve always knew he had magic. His family was full of it. The Harrington's past was full of dark magic and curses and cold. Lots of cold.

His grandmother was the one who had Harrington's family history engraved into Steve's brain.

Victor Harrington and their coven had bewitched England to believe in Jack the Ripper. To bring the fear of witchcraft off of them at push the publics eye to a killer. A human.

Anne Harrington was hung in Salem. She was torturing her neighbor Sally Hargrove with a puppet. A lock of Sally's hair was woven amongst the strings. Multiple pins sticking from the puppet. Annes last words were a curse. Cursing that the Hargrove and Harrington families would be connected through hate and blood. With a Harrington always bringing the downfall to a Hargrove. Forever.

in 1745, Lilian Hargrove found the devils mark on Marie Harrington. Marie was covered in moles. Just like Steve. His mother said it was hereditary and a sign of his heritage. Lilian, Instead of revealing to the town of Marie's witchcraft, befriended her. Some records said they were more than that. That they were lovers. Marie seemingly went insane months after that and killed Lilian in her sleep. Then Marie killed herself. Lying beside Lilian. Thats all Steve ever knew. Their family didn't talk about it. He'd asked his grandmother once about Marie and Lilian. She shook her head, bouncing the young boy on her knee.

"We don't talk of such dark things Bambino, the Harrington Curse is a powerful one. Full of mystery. Best to leave it alone."

His grandmother was Italian, her parents fleeing from america when the rumors started to grow about witchcraft. In the early 1930's his grandmother met a young man. Charles Hargrove. She poisoned his tea before she'd ever gotten the chance to really know him. She'd told Steve that the day he'd met a Hargrove was to not hesitate. To fulfill the curse as quick as he could.

She'd told him about the bond and ties the curse had over them. What it would feel like when he'd finally found them. A Hargrove.

He'd feel a pull, a tug against his aura. A Hargrove's aura was always blue. A Harrington's was red. He'd hurt. His body would hurt until A Hargrove was dead.

His father had cursed a Neil Hargrove back in high school, making him miserable and angry until he dies of old age. Therefore torturing the rest of his family the rest of his life.

Steve was the Harrington to complete the curse for this generation in their family. He was the witch to kill the Hargrove boy.

Steve was homeschooled, His parents deciding that he would get farther in his witch studies if he wasn't juggling between math and how to draw and correct a sigil.

But Steve wanted to go to school. So when high school rolled around, Steve begged them. They sighed and agreed. His father at first shook his head, a Harrington had no need for anything but magic and curses. But his mother shook her head saying how Steve still needs to be a functioning member of society.
His mother won in the end. And in Senior year. Steve met him, Billy. He'd felt the pull. He saw the aura. He knew he was staring at a Hargrove.

And he was beautiful.
All tanned skin and muscle. Blue-grey eyes hidden behind dark long lashes. And a head full of curls down to his shoulders. And freckles. God he had freckles.

Steve was in the woods. Because of course he was. He was in the middle of a spell. Because of course he was.

And Billys car roared down the trail. Stopping right before he hit a tree. Music was blaring from the speakers and from the windows. He was smoking.
Billy stumbled out of his car. Slamming the door shut behind him. He was breathing heavy, blood dribbling down his nose. He seemed to be muttering something behind his cigarette.

He looked angry and Steve. Well, Steve was dumb enough to move from his half drawn sigil to check on the boy.
If he was going to kill him someday. He could try to be nice now.

"Hargrove?" He called out. Billy's head snapped in his direction. He blew smoke out of his mouth, eyes watery and anger ridden on his brows.

"Who's asking?" He spat examining the boy who just walked out from behind a tree.

He had thick dark brown hair that seemed to touch the sky with its hight. It was impressive to have that much volume. Matching his hair was his eyes. Wide and chocolate brown. Something that could only be compared to a dog. From what he could see, he was pale and splattered with dark moles.

'Pretty.' Billy thought, his eyes grazing over the boy and his black clothes.

"Um.. I'm asking. Steve...uh, Steve Harrington."
That name sounded farmiliar.

"You've got to be shitting me..." He muttered, remembering back to Neil. His father who always mentioned the Harrington name. Damning them to hell and back. Something about their ancestors or whatever.

"I'm sorry?" Steve asked, body tilting so that he could see Billy through the rest of the trees.

Billy chuckled, Dropping his cigarette to the forest floor and snuffing it with his boot.

"You're a Harrington?"

Steves nose wrinkled, eyes on the cigarette.
"That's not good for the environment."

Billy rolled his eyes, stuffing his hand into his pockets, looking bored. Acting like there wasn't any blood dripping down and out of his nose.

"And you're testing my patience. Are you a Harrington?"

The boy crossed his arms. Glaring back to the other.
"Well that's what I said. So, yeah."
He felt that tug, saw their auras clash. Battling each other silently.
And for the first time in the five minutes of meeting him, he hurt. Just like his grandmother said.
It felt as if someone was slowly turning a knife around in his stomach.
And shit. It hurt.

He almost collapsed from the sudden pain, but his eyes were caught on the boy a few feet ahead of him, clutching his chest.
In the same place Steve had felt the curses pain.

"What the fu-" Steve sputtered before collapsing to the ground, clutching his chest.
He looked to his right and saw Billy in the exact spot he saw him before, except he too was on the ground clutching his chest.

The pain soon became to much to bear. He screamed, gripping the floor below him.

He didn't remember when he passed out. Just remembered waking up, and lifting from where he laid. Billy was still on the ground, lying motionless. The only sign that he was alive was his breath heaving in his chest.

Steve didn't hesitate, he didn't know how long he'd been out. Didn't even know what time it was.
So he went back to his sigil. Cleaned up a bit and high tailed it home.
His mother had greeted him at the door.

They were home surprisingly.
"Steven, where were you? Your father and I were worried sick."
His mother shook her head, her brown curls moving with her.

"Sorry Mother, I fell asleep."
She frowned, arms crossed.
"In the woods? You weren't hex'd were you?"

Steve shook his head, trying to make his way to his room, not needing a talk from his mother who's rarely ever there anyways.

"No mother, just tired."
He heard her sigh, already imagining her getting prepared to cleanse the house.

"Thank god. It's not a good day for hex's..." Steve heard her mother mumble right before he closed the door.
It wasn't a good day for hex's. But it seemed like a good day for a curse to come to fruition.

Billy woke up on the forest floor. Dazed and confused and sore beyond belief.
He'd heard the rumors and legends that followed the Harrington's. Whispers of the occult and pagan worship that seemed to follow them.
After what he'd just experienced in the woods, Billy knew one thing for sure.
The Harrington boy had opened Pandora's box and he now couldn't close it.